


Theatre: The Audience

by watanuki_sama



Series: Theatre Quartet [4]
Category: D.N. Angel
Genre: Angst, Japanese naming conventions, M/M, Symbolism, Unreliable Narrator, Weird tense changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanuki_sama/pseuds/watanuki_sama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Theatre, the Audience has no place upon the stage. It is a watcher, doing nothing as the Puppeteer dances his Marionette. And once the lights have dimmed, the Audience thins, until it is called once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theatre: The Audience

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 10/30/2005 on ff.net under the penname 'EFAW'.

_The curtain lifts…_

_In the Theatre, there is always a stage. The Audience has never taken step on the stage, for the Audience has no place upon the stage. The Audience is a watcher, an observer, never interfering in the show, always carefully detailing the story as it happens. Entertainment is the main purpose of the Audience; to watch, and be entertained, and to never interfere._

_Once upon a time, there was no Audience. There was just the wind, and the sky, and the earth. Then, one lone Puppeteer appeared on a street corner, dancing his Marionette across the ground, and the Audience was born. Coins clattered in the hat, and the Puppeteer knew he had something. The street corner became a stage, and Audience of a few became a living, thriving beast of hundreds. All was good. The Puppeteer had his Audience, and the Marionette could dance for someone who wanted to watch._

_Then came the Doll._

_Instead of only watching the Marionette on stage, for the first time, the Audience could step into the place of the Puppeteer, using the Doll as its own puppet. Slowly, the Audience thinned, the Puppeteer danced the Marionette to fewer people, and the theatre began to fade into what it once was. The Puppeteer could not compete with the Doll that stole his Audience, and time began to show its wear. Time, and loneliness._

_The Puppeteer began to lose his mind to the darkness and loneliness that the Audience had caused. And even with the Doll, the Audience stepped back into its previous role; a watcher, an observer. It could do nothing as it watched the Puppeteer slowly fade from reality, until only the blood-lust and hate remained._

_That's when the Puppeteer lost his Audience for good._

_When he tried to destroy the one he needed to survive._

_The stage is called Life._

_This is the Audience._

_Let the show begin._

**XXXX**

The cat is a curious creature. It is one that steps silently, moving softly on padded feet, always landing on its feet when it falls. A sleek, lithe creature that can moved so gracefully it seems to be dancing on the floor, that sometimes seems to have liquid for bones. Slitted eyes give a fair view in the dark, eyes that catch what little light is thrown out and uses it to move, to travel in the dark. It is a cautious stalker.

The owl is another amazing creature. It is a bird of prey, a child of the night. On silent wings it can swoop onto its prey from nowhere, taking the life from the prey and devouring it out of sight. An owl's eyes make the witching hour become as noon, and an owl's hearing is so good it can hear a mouse chewing a nut from a football field away. It is a silent hunter.

Once upon a time, there was a thief.

But not just any thief.

He was a thief of the night, a child of the moon.

His name was Dark.

At first, people called him a Cat Burglar. He could move through heavily guarded areas, dodge traps and people alike, and steal the target in a matter of minutes. It seemed impossible that he could be anything other than a cat burglar. After all, who else would be able to steal something surrounded so thoroughly like that?

Only a ghost.

But that's nonsense.

Until someone saw him disappear on black wings, fading into the starry sky as silent as an owl.

From then on, he became a Phantom thief, because no cat burglar could ever fly on wings of a bird. He was either a ghost or an angel, and no one believed for a minute that he was an angel. Angels have white wings.

Everyone knows that.

_…the Puppeteer began to lose his mind to the darkness and loneliness…_

And when their angel finally came, they were distraught. The angel that came was cruel, a torturous person who only tried to destroy the thief called Dark, and soon it was obvious to the people that the angel was a devil, and they began to rethink their opinions of angels and demons.

Because a demon in white wasn't an angel.

And a gentleman devil in black was the closest they had to an angel.

The people were confused, as everything they had been taught was being disproven before their very eyes. And they started to stop believing in an almighty God with right-hand angels, because the angel they saw was a demon. And they began to believe in the Phantom, and the Hunter, knowing that they were real.

And they knew which of the two was the demon.

And they knew which of the two was the angel.

_…this is the Audience…_

**XXXX**

_…the Audience is a watcher…_

School was always fun for Dark. He could watch Daisuke sputter around his crush, and give advice when the lad was being his usual clumsy self, and could throw insults at the Hikari bastard that only Daisuke could hear. He always loved making the redhead blush with his perverted comments and lewd remarks, and was always there, giving advice and input when the boy needed help.

_… an observer…_

But that was the extent of his power. He could never come out during the day, because he knew who resided in the Hikari, and he knew the slaughter that would result if the Hunter came out. He wasn't that stupid as to kill hundreds of innocent teenagers just so he could have a bit of fun. And though he dearly wished he could go back to the way things once had been, before he was a thief, when he was just a regular guy who loved, lost, and would eventually die, he told himself he didn't care.

After all, the night was his domain.

_…never interfering in the show, always carefully detailing the story as it happens…_

He owned the night. The day belonged to Daisuke and the Hikari child, but the nighttime was his own. Krad had no place, as he was a creature of light set into the darkness. He was the opposite of the thief, but the opposite of night was day, and the day had been stolen by their Tamers. So Krad wandered through life with no true place, only coming out during the night to chase the dark.

But Dark knew where his place was. His place was with the stars, the moon, the blackness of the sky. His favorite time was the witching hour, when he thought he could feel the world hold its breath for just a minute. Sometimes, when Daisuke was sleeping, he would take over, and go up to the roof and just sit, watching the sky, his sky, and listening to the breath of the world stop for that one moment. Sometimes, he longed for the day, but he loved the night.

Because it was his.

_…the Audience has never taken step on the stage…_

More often than not, Dark would sit on the roof and remember. There was no use thinking about the Hikari-Niwa war, because he could do nothing in it. He was just a vessel in the fighting, a tool, as a cannon or gun would be in a battle. He stole the Hikari art, and that was all he did. That was his purpose.

So he remembered.

_…time, and loneliness…_

And he remembered a time that he once knew, though he couldn't tell anymore what the memories were. He didn't know anymore if the memories he had were real or not. Once, he had known, but time had dulled his sharp memories to dulled edges. And loneliness had a factor, because being lonely might have led him to create memories to have that had never been there.

He never wished that he could go back to those remembered times, real or not, because he knew he never could. His purpose was with the Niwas, and he wouldn't escape that unless the Niwas died, at which he would return to the darkness and never come out. He just lived life as he could, and as long as he could, because the life of his Tamer was the only life he could ever have.

_…it could do nothing as it watched the Puppeteer slowly fade from reality…_

But though he loved the night, there was a darkness that struck terror into his heart. The darkness he went to after a Tamer loved, that complete and utter darkness scared him witless. He had watched the darkness transform Krad into a beast, a cruel creature who fought only to stay from the darkness. For now, Dark knew he could live with it, because he disappeared when his Tamer found his true love. He knew that his Tamer would bear child, and someday there would be another Niwa boy who he would come out to meet.

Someday.

But he also knew the inevitable would come, that the Niwa bloodline, thin as it was, would die out. He knew it would happen, and he was scared, because he couldn't die. He would never die. When there were no more males of the Niwa blood, he would disappear into the darkness, and he would fade from life, and he would go crazy.

He knew this. He knew he would go insane. He had watched his only constant do it, slip over the edges, and he knew that he, too, would fall prey to the madness that slunk on the edges of his vision. He knew he would go mad, because there was nothing else to do, surrounded by a darkness that left only the consciousness alone, always alone.

He feared that day.

But he knew it was coming.

So he remembered.

**XXXX**

…once upon a time, there was no Audience…

One of his fondest memories was of when he first met Krad. Since this was before he had become the Niwa curse, he didn't know if it was true, or if it was made up by his mind, but he didn't care. It was a comforting memory, and he felt comfort in it, even though it might have been false.

_…then, one lone Puppeteer appeared on a street corner…_

In this memory, he had seen Krad across the street. The sun had glinted off his hair, and his golden eyes had flashed as they had met scarlet ones, and in that moment Dark had thought him beautiful. He had seen pretty girls before, and had thought they were beautiful, but they had been grey compared to this young man. He had been stunned by the beauty, and had vowed to try and get it for himself.

_…the Puppeteer had his Audience…_

It took a while for the blond to become comfortable in his presence, let alone be courted by another male, in a society that shunned homosexuals, but the two didn't care. Dark could see Krad was falling in love, and the gentle young man the blond had been became a part of his life he felt he couldn't live without. The first time they had slept together, though they weren't supposed to, had been like magic, and in his heart, Dark knew he, too, had fallen in love.

_…slowly, the Audience thinned…_

But vanity has its price, and Dark was a very vain person. He knew the consequences of his actions, knew that he would be exiled, if not killed, if it became known that he had slept with a man. His heart said that it didn't matter, that love would conquer all, but his vanity said to stop it all while there was still a chance to stay. He had been torn between two choices. Love, or reputation, and looking back, it seemed callous which of the two he chose.

_…the Puppeteer could not compete with the Doll that stole his Audience…_

Then the Niwa came, said they had seen his skill with pick-pocketing, and had an offer for him. And he went, to be bound to the family, to steal for them from the Hikari clan. He spared a little regret for the blond he had left, hoping that Krad would understand, and knowing he wouldn't.

_…until only the blood-lust and hate remained…_

Later, when the one he loved had come to kill him, sent by the same family he stole from, he knew what a drastic mistake he had made. He had sold love for a chance to save his reputation, because his vanity wanted a chance to save face. It was only after that he realized how deep his love had gone, and how shallow he had been.

And too late he found out how deep Krad's love had been, to have mutated into hate that tore him apart.

_…that's when the Puppeteer lost his Audience for good…_

That's when Dark realized he could never have the one he loved back. All because of his shallow stupidity, he had lost Krad to the same darkness that would one day claim him.

_…when he tried to destroy the one he needed to survive…_

Whether memory or imagination, the story still brought a pain to Dark's heart when he thought about it. If the memories weren't real, then he hadn't loved Krad at first, but somewhere along the way, he had. There were only two things he knew to be true in the world. That he loved his hunter, and that he would never get to claim him.

_…the stage is called Life…_

**XXXX**

Destiny. The word always rang false to Dark. Destiny, and Fate, and all the like words. He didn't believe that a person's life was preordained from the day they were born. No one could know what a person would do, whether or not they were a higher power or not. Which was why he always had such a hard time believing that his only purpose in life was to steal the Hikari art for the Niwas. He knew he had signed up for it, that he had jumped on the ship and now had to stay for the ride, but he kept hoping that someday, he could stop and get off.

_…dancing his Marionette across the ground…_

He dodged the golden ball of energy thrown his way, taunting Krad, swooping with stolen artwork in his hand, but his mind was on something completely different. Every move was reflexive and automatic; he didn't even have to think about them anymore. Which was why he could spare thought for something else while Krad chased him in his stolen body.

_…the Audience could step into the place of the Puppeteer…_

They weren't so different, he and Krad. People said they were opposites, but that really wasn't true. Both were curses in a foreign body, both were trapped in a never-ending cycle that only ended up in darkness, both had loved and lost. He could go on and on about the similarities between the two of them, and they greatly outweighed the differences. Not that it mattered. No one cared. And, he mused, as he flew back to the Niwa home with the art clutched in his hands, both wouldn't be missed when they were gone.

_…using the Doll as its own puppet…_

With a soft sound, Dark relinquished control back to his host, watching from a corner of the boy's mind as the teen immediately started fretting over the Hikari. Poor Daisuke. Poor, stupid, oblivious Daisuke. The child couldn't see what he was doing to the Hunter's Tamer, had no idea the effect his friendship had on the cold teen. Despite everything he put out, he was too caught up in his own worries and crushes to notice the hidden affections of his friend.

_…there was just the wind, and the sky, and the earth…_

After much fretting, when the boy had finally fallen asleep, Dark quietly stole the lad's body, clambering up onto the peaked roof without disturbing his sleeping familiar. This routine had been done for so long it was second nature now. The moon, bright in her fullness, shone down, silhouetting him to anyone watching. His eyes slowly sought out a distant apartment building, and he could vaguely see a glimmer of gold before it disappeared to blue and sank to the ground.

_…the Audience has no place upon the stage…_

Languidly, the thief stretched his arms above his head, rotating his shoulders. Then, moving with a cat-like grace, he sank to the ground, staring up at the stars. After a long time, a furry white head poked up from the side of the roof, and Wiz came to join his master, curling up in the thief's side. Absentmindedly, a slender hand reached out and stroked the soft fur, his mind wandering.

The cat is a cautious stalker.

The owl is a silent hunter.

Two completely different animals can never coexist as one. But there is one person who can take the attributes of them both: the thief who flies through the night on silent wings.

With only his body, he would have been a cat burglar.

With only wings, he would have been an angel.

Together, he is a Phantom.

_Let the show begin…_


End file.
